The Northern ForestThe sighing wind drifts through the treesThe keenest ear will read the breeze, The mind tuned in to every change, Will know whos been and where they range. The crack of leaves, a broken frond, Leads to a trail and then beyond, As clearly mapped as any chart, Each footstep beating like a heart. From up above and down below, Your trail is watched, your course they know. Within the shade of lofty tur, Clad in what is the finest fur, With bows and spears, their arrows keen, You sense they�re close, as yet unseen. You strain to hear the slightest sound, As nimble feet pass on the ground. They follow close, you listen hard, Who holds the ace, that winning card? You look above, the sunlight rends � The canopy, ne�er foe nor friend. A tabuk starts, eyes filled with fear, The birdsong stops, they must be near, You try to walk an even track, Looking forward, but never back. The rush of air, so swift and true, The sky above, the clearest blue, Suspended high, among the trees, You close your eyes and curse the breeze. Their laughter rings, they mock and taunt, The trap you sprung, your dreams will haunt, Once taken down, dragged to the lair, The degradation, loss of hair. Watch her face, when she�s not looking, With skill and ease, the fish unhooking, It writhes a while, then remains still, No gasp for air, the end, the kill. As moons gaze down, she�ll rest and feed, Then dance to show unspoken need, Wide branches spread their dark fingers, High among them smoke still lingers. Then moons depart; the sun will rise, You recall again, words so wise, Warning of these outlaw women, A haruspex read the omens, �Travel swiftly and travel fleet, Do not linger; be spry on feet, Many dangers forests conceal, Never provoke them to reveal!� �Listen hard, yes and listen well, Detect by sight, by sound and smell, Look to the skies, to left and right, Keep weapons ready, know your plight. Fresh footprints in the mornings dew, Watch the signs, they�ll be watching you!� Now they mock and call you handsome, Are you for sale, barter, ransom? Whate�er befalls, the forest shares, The secrets of the Panthers snares. Who came before, who�s yet to fall, The leaves reach out to touch them all. Majestic as the walls of Ar, Tems tall arbour spreads as far, Locking the mysteries deep within, Where thickets end and rivers begin! |